


welcome home

by tougenkyous



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Growing Up, Loneliness, M/M, Marriage Proposal, New Dangan Ronpa V3 Spoilers, Tumblr: saioumaexchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 09:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13948224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tougenkyous/pseuds/tougenkyous
Summary: Home became a stranger until Ouma Kokichi came into his life.





	welcome home

**Author's Note:**

> For the SaiOuma Exchange on Tumblr! My recipient is Number 5.
> 
> First off, I'm actually almost 2-weeks late with this and it's mostly my fault for beating around the bush. Admittedly, I was low on my muse and writing juices since I've been super occupied, so I sincerely apologise for being late, and for if this is lackluster in any way. ;; I really love OumaSai though, so I'm glad to have written something for them at last. It's 3am and I'm incoherent.
> 
> In any case, Number 5 (who requested for a non-despair setting where Ouma and Saihara are Hope's Peak Academy students and Ouma introduces Saihara to DICE; I took creative lengths with your prompt so I hope you don't mind), whoever you are, I hope you're able to warrant at least *some* enjoyment out of this!  
> (This fic was beta'd once, but I apologise for any grammatical errors or spelling mistakes you may spot.)
> 
> P.S. since we don't know the names and personalities of the DICE members, I made them up. Please refer to [here](https://78.media.tumblr.com/97959927b3d8750e2fd7cd5ef547b732/tumblr_ozczesQco51uqtvogo1_1280.png) for their names to avoid getting confused when you read this!

Saihara Shuichi was four years old when his parents went overseas and the concept of home slowly became a stranger.

It was on one windy, autumn day when Shuichi received the news over a phone call. His parents had received a job promotion that required them to be transferred to an international branch based in the United States. Over the phone, he could hear their happy cheers and excited giggles, but, being four and conscious of what this could possibly mean, Shuichi could only bring himself to say one thing.

“Will I not get to see Papa and Mama for a long time?” he asked.

“Ah, that’s the sad part, ain’t it?” he heard his father say, followed by an exasperated sigh. “I’m afraid you won’t be seeing us too often, yeah. Work is hectic, and we’d probably only be able to come back once or twice a year.”

“Oh, but,” his mother said, after snatching the phone from his father. “We’ll be letting you live with Uncle Nobuhiko instead. I’m so sorry, sweetheart, that we’d be away for quite a while, but you can manage, right? You’ll be a good boy, won’t you, Shuichi?”

Shuichi remained silent at the question. He could practically feel the excitement and enthusiasm from his parents’ voices, but only a static, stone cold feeling rested atop his shoulders, weighing him down the longer he dwelled on the silence. After a moment, his lips finally parted.

“I’ll be a good boy,” he said, but it wasn’t a promise. “I’ll wait for Papa and Mama.”

“That’s my boy, Shuichi! Mama has faith you’ll do fine on your own. Wait for our return, alright?”

“Don’t give Uncle Nobuhiko too much on his shoulders, alright?” his father said, after snatching the phone back from his mother. “He may be carefree, but he’s got a lot on his plate when it comes to work. As far as I know, he rarely takes breaks, too, so be careful to not burden him too much, alright?”

“Alright,” Shuichi nodded. His parents’ laughter slowly filtered into the background as his mind reevaluated all that was just delivered to him. He was happy for his parents, really, but, more than anything, there was only a numb feeling left in the wake of the news, and he was left with only a single thought.

There wasn't going to be anyone he could come home to anymore.

* * *

Saihara Shuichi was ten years old when he found solace in mystery fiction.

Going back to an empty apartment after school had become commonplace ever since he moved in to live under the care of his uncle, who was deemed his new uncle after his parents went overseas. His uncle was one of the leading detectives at the agency he was bound to, which meant he was almost always busy; sometimes to the point where he wouldn’t come home for several nights in a row.

Shuichi had learned to be independent, though, so it wasn’t much of an issue taking care of himself while his uncle wasn’t around. It took some time to get used to living with his uncle because adapting to new surroundings wasn’t exactly a forte of his. He’d been keeping in touch with his parents over phone calls once every month or so. In each and every one of them, his parents sounded busy but content with their new lives, and they always had new stories to offer whenever they were connected. Shuichi was happy for them.

That didn’t do anything to ease the quietness of his apartment, though, whenever he returned from a long day at school, and the loneliness that followed all-too quickly after. It was a foreign feeling, to have no one to come back to. It hit him harder than he thought when he realised that, at some point, he still hadn’t gotten fully adjusted to coming back to an empty apartment, and just how _unbearable_ the loneliness was.

So, when he finally reached a point where going home felt like a chore, Shuichi turned to the local antiquarian bookstore instead.

The bookstore was huge and quiet, and Shuichi relished in the peace that shrouded the place. Books lined up neatly shelves after shelves, furnished fully with the finest of wood. It was evident that the owner of this shop had an eye for olden architecture styles. The smell of paper and ink was strong and consistent throughout the place.

On his first day there, he discovered a special interest in novels of the mystery genre. The _Tokyo Zodiac Murders_ by Shimada Souji was what ultimately solidified this when Shuichi found the book stacked atop a bunch of non-arranged books, edges worn and timeless. The calculating mysteries, the three-dimensional characters and the intricately detailed writing were pulled him in almost immediately, and Shuichi found himself completely fascinated.

He couldn’t remember the last time his emotions were stirred, and he developed an attachment to mystery novels much too quickly. They were suspenseful and exciting, and served as a distraction from the thoughts at the back of his head, allowing him to immerse in a world that could distract him from the loneliness that accompanied his own life.

When there wasn’t an uncle he could come home to, Shuichi substituted the presence of a guardian with his books instead. Five books consistently borrowed from the library every week meant he had something to look forward to and come back to after school everyday.

(An empty home was illuminated by fictional stories and characters in the form of words.)

Somewhere, at the back of his head, though, the nagging, longing desire to come home once more to a familial presence remained almost persistently, but Shuichi had learned that distractions were friends. He’d gradually taken to suppressing the thought with made-up stories dropped at the lead of a pen.

It was okay. He wasn’t lonely anymore. So long he had someone— _something_ to come back to, it was fine.

* * *

Saihara Shuichi was thirteen years old when he entered junior high and discovered a knack for detective work.

Uncle Nobuhiko proposed the idea first—that Shuichi give working part-time at his agency a try. His uncle was a renowned detective in the crime scene, and he worked relentlessly with the local police to bring the truth behind cases to light. Shuichi learned that his uncle had apparently found out about his recent interest in murder mystery and detective fiction, so he made the decision to offer him an opportunity to learn what detective work would be like in real life.

The first time Shuichi stepped into his uncle’s office, he was but an ordinary junior high schooler nerve-wracked by the possibilities waiting for him in this field. Despite his nervousness, Shuichi couldn’t deny the excitement from the prospect of working in a detective agency, especially alongside someone he was familiar with. Fortunately, too, his school had no rules on their students taking up jobs at the tender age of thirteen, so he had free reign.

It began with just staying in his uncle’s office, compiling documents and organising his paperwork for him. Soon, dealing with paperwork turned into dealing with clients, and dealing with clients turned into dealing with murder cases themselves.

Shuichi first witnessed a corpse five months into his work. He was a well-prepared, but ultimately no more than a thirteen years old boy when the sight of a brutally mangled body greeted him the moment he stepped out of the police car and onto the crime scene. It was a sight he was sure he’d never forget, because no matter how much he’d mentally prepared himself for him, it disconcerted him to no end.

He watched as his uncle approached the body to inspect the bloody mess. The victim was a woman in her early twenties. Apparently, her current state was a result of being run over by a car. Camera footage by the traffic suggested that it was very likely to be intentional, making this a possible murder. Shuichi stood on the sidelines and watched, assisting only when he was asked to.

Assisting from the sidelines gradually turned to investigating murder cases himself. His first opportunity rose during a case where a man in his late forties was mysteriously found strangled to death with a wire in his own apartment. Shuichi would never forget the coldness that graced his fingertips when he inspected the unsightly corpse.

Over time, Shuichi discovered he had all the right skills required in a detective’s work. Many of his uncle’s colleagues remarked with awe at how fast he’d adapted himself to helping his uncle out in a field that constantly dealt with deaths and the capabilities he’d shown, especially when his young age was taken into consideration.

“Your nephew is talented!” Shuichi, once, heard one of the staff at the agency whispered to his uncle.

“He does,” his uncle nodded. “I should perhaps invite him to join the agency when he’s all grown up. He seems like he’s interested, too,” he laughed.

Admittedly, Shuichi thought he might had been a little bit too invested in this. Detective work used to seem so out of his reach, existing as only something he could only observe and read about in mystery novels. Three years ago, he wouldn’t have imagined he would be investigating corpses and helping with identifying clues and possible motives for the local police.

It all seemed so out of his league, especially considering he was only a thirteen-year-old. The only explanation he had for this miraculous opportunity would be just as his uncle’s colleague had said—he was gifted with a talent.

In the next year, his talent would come into fruition. At the tender age of fourteen, Shuichi helped solve a murder case that had long since confused the nation for the past two years.

His name became plastered all over the news, and his uncle praised him for his effort, pointing out his extraordinary capabilities as a potential detective candidate. While Shuichi was glad he was able to bring the case to a close, he was partially shaken—the fact that he witnessed the murderous glare sent in his way by the culprit of the case when they were finally arrested for good, left a strain on him, but he tried his best to not falter.

The reality of becoming a detective was surprisingly much closer than he thought it would be. He learned that solving cases in real life was unlike anything like the thrilling adventures faced by the strong-minded protagonists in the novels he read. Despite the fears that plagued him on a constant basis, Shuichi eventually forced himself to come to a resolve—to become a detective in the future who could help the general public by bringing more cases to a close.

He wasn’t sure how confident he would be. He didn’t think he would be that great a detective, but he wanted to try, still, in spite of his own worries. His low self-confidence aside, having a talent in detective work was something he’d never thought he would possess, so he wanted to put it to good use to the best he could. He decided to continue assisting his uncle in his work.

Ultimately, it helped keep his mind off the yearning that remained so fervently at the back of his head. Being occupied with something meant he focused less on coming home to an empty apartment. It was just as he thought four years ago—distractions really were friends, so it was a good thing.

(Was it, really?)

* * *

Saihara Shuichi was fifteen years old when he was scouted into Hope’s Peak Academy and met Ouma Kokichi.

To say the transfer was unexpected would be something akin to an understatement. Coming home to find an enrollment letter addressed towards him from Hope’s Peak Academy was the last thing he’d expected to happen. He learned that the higher-ups at the school had taken notice of his involvement in his uncle’s work as well as his effort in putting a few cases to a close.

It was this very moment that he’d realised his talent really bloomed. According to the letter, he would be enrolled under the title of the Super High School Level Detective.

He barely had enough time to allow himself to adjust to the transfer. Just a few days after receiving the letter, Shuichi was already on his way to Hope’s Peak Academy for his first class.

On his first day there, someone from his class immediately stood out.

Ouma Kokichi was a loud-spoken, rather obnoxious boy whose tendency to interject with a joke (some poorly constructed, at that) here and there in between a lecture given by their homeroom teacher made him stood out as the clown of the class. The second most notable thing about him was the checkered scarf he wore with his school uniform, which strangely complemented him well.

The third thing about him was his gleaming eyes of deep purple, which were quick to find their way towards Shuichi in the middle of lecture, catching the latter off-guard and ultimately red-handed for staring at him. Shuichi quickly directed his gaze back at their homeroom teacher, but it was evident Ouma had already noticed his staring at him. His attention gradually strayed from the lecture for a moment to spare a glance at the supreme leader. A glance turned into a stare, which lasted longer than he’d like, and soon he found himself locking eyes with him once more.

It was odd, really, because Shuichi was seated two rows away from where Ouma was seated. For Ouma to specifically notice that Shuichi had been staring at him… it almost felt as if Ouma had been watching him, too. Shuichi couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes away when their eyes locked, so they ended up staring at one another for what felt like eternity. Ouma was the first person to break the eye contact, and it seemed like that was the end of it, until his eyes briefly trailed after Shuichi again and this time, he gave Shuichi a knowing smile.

Shuichi blinked. Different trains of thoughts began to circle in his mind, all at once. Had they met somewhere before? It seemed as if Ouma recognised him from before, but Shuichi was pretty sure this was their first time meeting.

He found out later that he didn’t have to ponder on the possibility, because right after school was let off, Ouma approached him in the hallways.

“You must be Saihara-chan,” Ouma greeted, the smile on his face seemingly stretching with each word. “That’s so cool! This is my first time meeting a detective in the flesh!”

“You, um… know me?” Shuichi asked, a little perplexed.

“You’re all over the news, don’t you know? Nishishi. Now that I got a better look at you, you’re actually a lot nerdier than you looked on the news. They always say the real deal’s the better one, huh?”

Shuichi’s brain barely processed when Ouma suddenly materialised in front of him, prompting him to take a step back on reflex. Ouma, the Cheshire-like smile still hanging from his face, tilted his head upwards, as if trying to get a better look at Shuichi’s face.

“U-Um?”

Ouma said nothing and only continued smiling—and Shuichi recognised it as a smile one would have when they had ulterior motives—before straightening his back and dramatically announcing.

“I’m sure you know me by now, but I’m Ouma Kokichi, the Super High School Level Supreme Leader!” he introduced. “Oh, but I’m not willing to give away any information about my organisation. After all, it’s top secret info, you know? Unless you’re willing to get on your knees and beg for it, then maybe I’d consider. Nishishi…”

Shuichi would be lying if he said he wasn’t weirded out in the slightest. He averted his eyes for a moment.

“I didn’t ask to know,” he replied bluntly, although now that Ouma mentioned it, he _was_ intrigued by his Super High School Level title. What kind of organisation did he run for him to be able to earn the title of a supreme leader? His leadership skills must be excellent, then.

“I’m just putting it out there! Gotta kill the curiosity before it kills the cat,” Ouma flashed a toothy grin. “Anyway, I think we’ll be seeing each other a lot, Saihara-chan.”

“Excuse me?” Shuichi raised a brow.

“We’re going to be classmates starting from today. I gotta make sure the local detective doesn’t get on my tail, you know? Can’t let you stop me and my shady business,” Ouma beamed.

“S-Shady business?” Shuichi blinked. “You’re not actually involved in anything illegal, are you?”

“Nothing that would land me a 3-year sentence in prison, thankfully, but a lifetime sentence? Maybe,” Ouma chirped casually. “Shady business means shady business! I gotta work hard as a leader to hide the body count, you know? Before the cops get me. I’m too young to go to jail!”

“B—”

Body count?

“Wait a minute, you’re not… being serious, are you?” Shuichi asked, eyeing him suspiciously because for all he knew, Ouma could just be toying around with him.

“Is there a reason I need to lie?” The smile on Ouma’s face was unwavering.

“Well, we’re… in a hallway,” Shuichi said. “If you _were_ involved in something illegal, I don’t think you’d be so careless as to leak your activities to someone you just met in such a public space.”

“But what if I’m leaking it to you because I want you to get on my tail?”

“...sorry?”

Shuichi stared at him. Didn’t he say that he didn’t want him to be on his tail just a moment ago?

“Yeah, you heard me! Those romance novels where the detective protagonists fall in love with the phantom thieves they’re supposed to be pursuing don’t stray too far from reality. Maybe I’m leaking things to you because I _want_ you to try and catch me down!”

“You… just said you didn’t want me to be after you, though.”

“Oh, that was a lie,” Ouma shrugged.

Shuichi felt a dull ache threatening to rack up the back of his head.

“Oh, yeah, another thing I just said was a lie, too!” Ouma cheerily announced. “Which one? I can’t tell. Spoilers aren’t fun now, are they? You just gotta get that detective brain of yours engineered, Saihara-chan!”

“Right,” Shuichi said, slightly exasperated. “It’s… a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, then, Ouma-kun.”

“Oh, are we going formal now? How boring. I was just having fun, too, you know?” Ouma remarked. “Just kidding! Nice to meet you, too, Saihara-chan. I’m hoping we’ll get along lots!”

“That—”

That’s going to depend, Shuichi wanted to say, but he held back on those words. He didn’t want to sound harsh.

“Well, then, I gotta keep going. A supreme leader’s got his hands full at all times, you know? Nishishi.” Ouma flashed Shuichi a knowing smile once more before reaching out to gently pat him on the shoulders. “You’re not very boring, Saihara-chan. See you next time!”

And with that, Ouma was on his way down the hallways, leaving Shuichi in a state of confusion and slight frustration.

That was certainly a peculiar meeting, more than anything. One of its kind, actually. Ouma Kokichi was certainly a boy that stood out, and Shuichi wasn’t sure whether or not that would be a good thing considering how his unusual behaviour, but, regardless, he’d be seeing more and more of him since they were classmates. It also meant he was going to get to know more about him, whether he liked it or not.

(Not that he was against the idea of getting to know more about Ouma, to be honest. He may be one to be easily overwhelmed by people, but those who stood out tend to catch his attention the most regardless.

Sighing to himself, Shuichi briefly ran his fingers through his hair before letting it slack at his side. He supposed he’d have to make do with this new school life of his.

* * *

 Saihara Shuichi was sixteen years old when Ouma Kokichi confessed to him.

It was one warm day in spring when their whole class decided to have an impromptu picnic in the gardens of Hope’s Peak Academy after school, since the cherry blossom trees on school grounds had just begun to bloom. Setting up took some time, and eventually, things were turning out smoothly despite it being a last-minute sort of plan.

While the rest of his classmates munched away on their packed lunches, Shuichi decided to take a break halfway into the event. Socialising had never been much of his forte, even if he did regard his classmates dearly. So, he decided to seat himself on a bench under a blooming cherry blossom tree, just a bit of distance away from where the picnic was held. He had a book with him, and he was just about looking forward to continuing from where he left off last night.

Not a minute into his reading, though, he heard footsteps shuffling up from behind him.

“What’chaaa doing?” A familiar voice singsonged. Shuichi didn’t even have to turn around to look at the offender; he would recognise this voice anywhere. “Whoa, Saihara-chan, seriously? Reading in the middle of a picnic? There’s no end to your nerdiness!”

“Ouma-kun,” Shuichi’s eyes strayed from the contents of the page he was on. He closed his eyes for a moment and allowed a slightly exasperated sigh to slip past his lips. “Hello to you, too, I guess.”

“Yeah, yeah! It’s me, your beloved Ouma Kokichi-kun! Nishishi,” Ouma grinned, elbows leaning down on the bench for support as he looked over Shuichi’s shoulders down at the book in his hands. “Hey, what are you reading? Another one of those wishy-washy detective stories?”

“I could ask you a similar thing, Ouma-kun,” Shuichi said flatly. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you going to join the others?”

“Oh, you know, just checking on what my beloved Saihara-chan is up to,” Ouma rested his chin against his palm, the grin on his face not budging in the slightest. “You’re really out here preferring to partake in some good ol’ Sherlock Holmes than join your friends in a picnic.”

“And you’re out here bothering someone who’s trying to read rather than joining your friends in a picnic,” Shuichi countered. The way he worded that may have sounded harsh, but he was pretty sure Ouma would interpret them as anything but such.

It wasn’t as if he disliked spending time with Ouma, really. In fact, time spent at Hope’s Peak Academy meant time spent with his classmates, Ouma included. Shuichi would be lying if he said his impression of Ouma didn’t steadily and gradually change over time. Ouma may be a prankster—an admittedly good one at that—but there was a side to him that Shuichi noticed, that expressed a subtle degree of softness and genuineness.

Shuichi still didn’t have a gull grasp on Ouma as a person, but they said it was the littlest details that offered the strongest glimpses into one’s character.

“You know, you don’t really have to force yourself to hang out with me, Ouma-kun. There’s still a lot of food left at the picnic, so you should probably go and help yourself,” Shuichi said.

 _“Force_ myself?“ Ouma sounded scandalised, eyes widening in shock. For a moment, Shuichi _almost_ thought it was genuine, until he identified the crocodile tears forming at the corner of his orbs—a common trait of his pranking ways. “Y-You think I’m actually forcing myself to spend time with you? Saihara-chan, you’re so mean! You toyed with my little maiden heart!“

Shuichi braced himself to move away the moment Ouma would break into tears and snot, but he didn’t. Instead, the most unexpected thing happened—Ouma’s expression immediately blanked after, cutting his own stunt short, and it caught Shuichi off-guard. This was a first.

“Saihara-chan, do you really think I’m forcing myself to spend time with you?” Ouma asked, voice monotonous, and it honestly unnerved Shuichi, because this was a much too unexpected and sudden change in Ouma's demeanor.

“I— I don’t— I don’t know. Are you?” Shuichi shot the question back at him, blinking.

In the next second, the mischievousness returned in Ouma’s expression and voice. “Well, why don’t _you_ work that out yourself, Saihara-chan? Consider it the most well-written mystery I have to offer!”

“Huh?” Shuichi gave the supreme leader a look. What on earth could he possibly mean? Was that question earlier supposed to be some sort of diversion, then? Or maybe just something he asked to mislead him into thinking he meant something important with it? Something a part of a prank he didn’t see coming? 

“For someone who reads so much Sherlock Holmes and Kogoro Akechi adventures, you sure are really dense, Saihara-chan,” Ouma mocked.

Shuichi’s eyebrows narrowed. “I _don’t_ read Sherlock Holmes.” Not yet, anyway. “And I don’t understand what you’re trying to say,” he huffed, a little ruffled and irritated by now. He felt like he was being riddled for no reason, and then toyed with. Sometimes Ouma really resembled a five-year-old who wants to have fun with all the toys he could grab at the toy store. Turning his attention back to the book in his hands, he sighed. “Ouma-kun, if this is another lie, I—”

He didn’t get to finish what he wanted to say, because in the next second there was a hand creeping up the side of his neck and towards his face. Shuichi almost _shivered_ at how foreign the contact felt. It positioned itself against his chin and angled his face slightly upwards to the side and—

The next thing Shuichi knew, his lips was against Ouma’s. Completely taken aback by this sudden development, Shuichi could only widen his eyes in surprise as time took on its own pace in this very moment. All of a sudden, Shuichi was conscious of just how _close_ Ouma was. His eyes trailed down to see Ouma’s eyelashes, which were quite long and almost touching his face now that he was close up. For some reason, he also registered just how soft and _good_ Ouma’s lips felt against his own, and he almost wondered what prompted him to think so—almost, because the rest of his attention shifted to linger on the sensation against his lips.

After what felt like a long moment, Ouma slowly and carefully pulled away, opening his eyes to stare into Shuichi’s own. His expression blank and unreadable, the next words Ouma said proceeded to plunge Saihara down a trail of confusion.

“It wasn’t a lie.”

Shuichi blinked.

“Saihara-chan, I like you.”

Shuichi tensed and swore time almost stopped.

I like you. I like you. _I like you._ Those were words he’d never expected to hear from Ouma of all people.

Shuichi promptly lost his voice. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, before pursing his lips, only to open them again. No words came out, though, so he ended up gaping like a goldfish instead.

“Are you really that surprised, Saihara-chan? I thought I made it super obvious!” Ouma sounded offended now, though Shuichi couldn’t tell if it was genuine.

“You— you don’t?” Shuichi stammered, nonplussed, his words coming out as more of a statement than a question. “You don’t,” he repeated, firmer this time. “Since— since when?”

“Since we met,” Ouma replied nonchalantly.

“Since— what? Really?”

“For a Super High School Level Detective who reads so much Sherlock Holmes, you sure are dense, Saihara-chan. How do you think you're going to fare when you grow up? You’re going to end up missing all the obvious signs, and you're going to end up getting kicked out of the agency just because you couldn't read!"

Shuichi would protest once more that he _didn’t_ read Sherlock Holmes, and he didn’t think insulting your crush after confessing to them was an ideal thing to do, but before he could get a word out, Ouma was quick to interject.

“So? What’s your answer, Saihara-chan?”

The puzzled look on Shuichi's face was enough to let Ouma know he didn't understand his question.

“Are you gonna reject me? Of course you would. After all, who’d want to hang out with a liar like me, right?” Ouma pursed his lips and smiled, unreadable as before, and Shuichi couldn’t tell if he was supposed to be upset about this. “If you’re gonna reject me, you should do it right now so I can move onto the next man and—”

“I… I’ll go out with you.”

The words slipped past his mouth faster than he could exert any control over his tongue. It took moments before Shuichi realised what he just said—what he just _accepted_. His hand hovered over his mouth as the surprise of what he’d just told Ouma slowly seeped in. Ouma stared at him, eyes slightly widened and unblinking, and Shuichi suddenly felt that the situation was much too awkward for him to handle.

“I— I mean, um,” Shuichi stuttered, hurrying to clarify his words, except he didn’t know _what_ to clarify. “I… wouldn’t mind, I guess.”

He didn’t even know why he said that. Why wasn’t he rejecting him instead?

“Are you serious?” Ouma’s expression suddenly blanked again, his voice now a little too low for it to not unnerve Shuichi once more. “Saihara-chan, you’re really going to accept a liar like me?”

“Uh, well— I won’t know for sure who you _truly_ are,” Shuichi said without thinking. “To be honest, I still don’t understand you, Ouma-kun, but it doesn’t mean I can’t accept you for who you are, or try to understand you... right?”

“And you _want_ to understand a liar like me?”

“I do,” Shuichi replied immediately, fixing a firm look on the supreme leader. “Maybe I won’t ever come to understand you, but I still want to try.”

Shuichi didn’t even know if he was prepared for this sort of relationship, to be honest. He didn’t even know whether or not the feelings he had for Ouma so much as _bordered_ on romantic love. He was but an addle-minded high school boy at this time, after all, but, at the very least, he was sure on one thing.

“That’s why... I’ll go out with you, if you’re willing to have me.”

There was a moment or two that consisted of nothing but silence between them. In that period of silence, a wind blew past where they were, causing the cherry blossoms to scatter from the tree they were sheltered under, reminding Shuichi of how deathly _heavy_ the silence hanging between them was. His heart was threatening to leap to his throat as anxiety began to pool at the pit of his stomach. Ouma’s expression remained blank and unreadable. It was difficult to try and pinpoint what he was truly thinking.

Did he say something wrong? Something weird? Well, he did just reciporated his feelings even though it was sudden, but… did he really say something he wasn’t meant to say?

“...um, if I said something wrong, I’m—”

“...you really aren’t boring at all, Saihara-chan,” Ouma muttered under his breath, quiet but also loud enough for Shuichi to catch them.

“Huh?”

“Well, whatever! The deal’s sealed, then,” Ouma said, his mischievous temperament now swiftly returned. “Just so you know, Saihara-chan, you can’t leave my side as part of the contract! You’re gonna be bound to me forever and ever, and I'm never letting you go, whether you like it or not! Deal?”

“Uh…… sure, I guess…?” Shuichi’s expression immediately softened to one of exasperation. Ouma really was quick to get back on his feet. It made him feel as if the Ouma he’d witnessed earlier was nothing but a figment of his imagination. Sighing to himself, Shuichi ultimately decided to give in and play along. “I guess I walked into this one myself.”

“Wow, you’re actually on board with this? I knew I could count on my beloved Saihara-chan to be obedient. Nishishi!” Ouma giggled. The Shuichi from a year ago would’ve likely found this to be ominous, but there was a sense of softness that he could detect in Ouma’s voice this very instance. With his usual knowing smile back on his face, Ouma extended a hand towards Shuichi. “Well, then, you're down the hole with me now, Saihara-chan. Deal?”

Shuichi held back another sigh. This was most likely the most awkward way one could go about a romantic confession, but he simply huffed through his nose and gave a soft smile before reaching out to grab Ouma’s hand.

“Please go easy on me, then, Ouma-kun.”

Frankly, he didn't know how to expect. This relationship could very well be short-ended, like many relationships amongst high schoolers nowadays, and Ouma's crush could possibly turn out to be no more than a puppy's love. In fact, for all he knew, this could very well be another one of Ouma's pranks, but there was a hint of genuineness in Ouma's words that made him doubt that possibility. Shuichi honestly didn't know what went through his mind when he accepted Ouma's confession. Maybe it was on impulse. Maybe he didn't know what other answers he could give. Either way, he wanted to give the relationship a chance, even if his feelings may be muddled for now. At the very least, he was sure of one thing.

He wanted to understand Ouma Kokichi.

* * *

Saihara Shuichi was seventeen years old when Ouma Kokichi introduced him to DICE.

It was on the day Ouma turned seventeen when his hand was tight in its grip on Shuichi’s wrist, enthusiastically dragging him out of his house the moment the latter got dressed on a Saturday morning. Shuichi’s protests easily fell deaf on Ouma’s ears as he dragged him towards the nearest train station to his house, sifting through the crowd as they made their way into the station.

“O-Ouma-kun, where are you taking me?!” Shuichi asked in ragged breaths, his legs starting to sore the more they ran. It was the first thing in the morning, after all.

“You’ll see, you’ll see! I did say spoilers aren't fun now, didn't I? Nishishi,” Ouma chirped cheerily, his hand never letting go of Shuichi’s even as they waddled through crowds and crowds from boarding the train to the train station of their destination and finally, the streets that greeted them outside of the station.

Shuichi was promptly led upwards the streets a bit of distance from the train station they departed from. Turning into a corner in between a few shops, they were led directly into a rather dark and narrow alley way, a spot clearly devoid of the sun. Ouma abruptly stopped before a door that almost seemed to be carved into the wall itself—the blunt edges of the wood and the slight rust on the doorknob gave away just exactly how worn it was.

Perplexed, Shuichi turned to Ouma. “Where is this?”

Ouma only answered his question with a widening grin. “A place,” he said vaguely, reaching out for the doorknob and turning it. The door opened with a loud creak, slowly revealing what was beyond it.

Shuichi’s mouth almost dropped down to the floor.

In heavy contrast to the worn and aged wooden entrance door, the inside of what appeared to be a room was tastefully furnished with a variety of furniture. The walls were adorned a reddish-brown wallpaper that was patterned with slim white stripes, and there was a tidy bar not too far away from where Shuichi stood at the doorway. There was so much as a chandelier hanging in the middle of the room, illuminating the room with a romantic dim orange. If Shuichi didn’t know any better, he would had thought he had stepped into a bar.

Leather couches were situated a few meters from where the bar was, and sitting on those couches were an unfamiliar group of people, all dressed in attractive casual styles, heads turning to the sudden arrival of the couple. It was strange how he’d never met any of them before, yet they all looked awfully familiar.

“I’ve kept you all waiting!” Ouma announced his presence with a wave of the hand, casually stepping into the room.

“Boss, you’re five minutes late,” one of them, a tall guy with blond hair and a notable side fringe that conveniently covered one side of his face, answered first. He looked at Shuichi and waved at him.

It was then it finally hit Shuichi.

He’d seen these people in photos before. It was from a time when Ouma came over to spend the night at his place. Shuichi vaguely remembered waking up in the middle of the night only to find Ouma still awake beside him, scrolling on his phone in the darkness. He remembered curling up to his boyfriend and leaning his cheek against his shoulders, eyelashes still heavy with sleep as he looked over and saw that Ouma was scrolling through pictures that featured a common group of people dressed in white attires and scarves similar to the one Ouma usually wore.

These people were members of DICE, Ouma’s subordinates.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it! I’m late, sheesh,” Ouma huffed, clearly not apologetic about his lack of punctuality in the least. “I brought the person of interest over.”

“...huh?” Shuichi blinked, puzzled. A few of the members looked over Ouma’s shoulders and directly at Shuichi, and he immediately tensed, suddenly feeling very awkward and trapped. “I— um,” he stammered and started to fidget slightl. “I’m… Saihara Shuichi, and... pleased to meet all of you here?”

“No way,” a girl in a double ponytail hairstyle quickly piped up, eyes wide and clear with interest. “Boss, that’s your _boyfriend_?”

“H-Huh?!” Shuichi boggled. He barely registered when the girl suddenly materialised before him, a trait he would recognise as one of Ouma’s than anything else. Her face was leaning in almost a bit too close than he was comfortable, her curious, pretty eyes scanning him from head to toes.

“Wow, he’s so cute!” she oggled, eyes sparkling as she turned back to Ouma. “Boss, you sure scored lucky to have a cutie like him hanging on your tail!”

“Just so you know, he’s mine, alright?” Ouma squinted suspiciously at her.

“I get it, Boss. Jeez, what did you think I was going to do? Steal him?” she pouted.

“Either way, an owner has to publicly declare when something rightfully belongs to him before someone else’s grabby hands reach out to it, you know?” Ouma shot her a mischievous smile before walking over to dramatically position himself right beside Shuichi. His hand crept over Shuichi’s back to grab his shoulder and pull him closer to him. “Anyway, it’s just as it looks here. Behold, your boss’ one and only lover, Saihara-chan, has arrived!”

There was a moment of silence from the group that stretched out a bit longer than Shuichi would like. It was broken just as he was starting to feel awkward, though, when the members suddenly stood up in unison and began cheering like party-goers on a fun night out.

“Finally, you’re getting yourself laid, Boss!” One of the members, of a noticeably huge size, shouted from where the group stood..

“My, my, I expected this, but I didn’t expect it to be this soon,” a woman, appearing to be in her early twenties, marveled and clapped her hands. “Congratulations, Boss.”

“Congratulations on your relationship, Boss! You really scored yourself a cutie there!” the girl with the pigtails put her hands up and squealed.

“I know we’re celebrating, but settle down now! Saihara-chan’s like a mouse, you know? He gets scared easily, so make sure to keep it down,” Ouma reprimanded, though the smile on his face suggested anything but displeasure. In fact, it looked fond more than anything else, and Shuichi was surprised at how genuine it was.

It really spoke volumes about how much DICE meant to Ouma.

“By the way, Boss,” the person with the side fringe raised his hand. “Have you told Saihara-san about us yet?”

“Oh, huh,” Ouma blinked, shooting Shuichi a side glance before his attention was diverted back to his subordinates. “Now that you mentioned it, Nagatsuka-chan, I almost forgot about it. Oopsies, guess a boss sometimes screws up, huh?” He, then, pointed at the girl with the double pigtails, who was standing at the very right of the group. “I’m going to go from right to left, so get your detective brain engine running and remember their names, Saihara-chan! That’s Ueshima Saki-chan,” he paused, then his finger moved to the person next to her. “Then, that’s Hayashi Junichi-chan, Nagatsuka Shintarou-chan, Hanazawa Suzue-chan, Shimizu Hiroko-chan, Yamamoto Kazu-chan, Otsuka Shinji-chan, Iesada Yasunari-chan, and! Finally, Hashimoto Mamoru-chan! Got all that down?”

All the while as he introduced his subordinates, Ouma’s finger went from right to left in a steady rhythm. Shuichi’s eyes followed after his finger, trying to catch up to Ouma’s pace (and he had a distant feeling that Ouma was deliberately listing their names in such a fast-paced manner to mess with him, but he held back on calling him out for it). That was certainly a lot of names to remember.

“Y-Yeah, I… I get it,” he nodded awkwardly. It was true, anyway. Those may be a lot of names to remember, but if there was one thing Shuichi had his foot in, it was memorising. He turned to the group before them and gave a slight bow. “Um… it’s pleased to meet everyone here. Again, I’m Saihara Shuichi. Pleased to meet everyone’s acquaintance.”

“We heard a loooot of things about you, Saihara-san!” Ueshima chipped.

“Eh? You did?” Shuichi wasn't surprised, though. He figured Ouma spilled about him to his own subordinates at one point.

Ueshima nodded. “Boss talks a whole lot about you sometimes. Told us all about you and even where you live—” Shuichi gave Ouma a side look, “—and what you do at home!”

“Young man, I’m rather surprised you could handle our boss,” Shimizu chuckled. “He can be such a handful sometimes.”

“It’s— it’s nothing, I suppose. I… guess patience is one of my strong points,” Shuichi let out a breathy laugh.

He really didn’t expect this either—for their relationship to have progressed to this step.

When he first accepted Ouma’s confession and requited his feelings, Shuichi never expected that they would last this long. At most, he predicted two weeks or so, mostly because he was unsure of his feelings at the time when he started dating Ouma. One could call him foolish for accepting someone’s feelings on impulse when he wasn’t even sure of his own feelings for them, but he was only a sixteen years old high schooler.

So, it surprised even himself when, over time, Shuichi found himself developing an obvious attachment to Ouma. Ouma was a handful, like his subordinates had said—he was loud-spoken, obnoxious and ultimately a prankster at heart.

Sometimes it felt like there wasn’t an end in sight to his pranks and lies, and sometimes it was hard for even Shuichi to tell if he was being genuine or not, but he gradually came to appreciate, and maybe even understand, Ouma as who he was. There was a side to Ouma that no one else knew about, that Shuichi was given glimpses of during the times they kissed and held each other close when a glint of genuineness and sincerity was reflected in those purple eyes.

Maybe it was because of this side of Ouma, but Shuichi eventually realised his attachment had bloomed into one of love. Beneath all the lies he constantly spew, there was a layer of truth that loved Shuichi. He was a prankster who put up a front, but he came to trust Shuichi enough to allow him access to a side he didn’t show to anyone else. For that, Shuichi loved him back.

“He can be quite a handful, but,” Shuichi’s voice dropped to a little more than a whisper, his cheeks pinkening slightly. “He’s actually a very gentle person underneath.”

In the next moment, Shuichi found himself at the receiving end of multiple stares, all of surprise and some bordering on shock. Even Ueshima seemed surprised herself. They were all stunned into silence for some reason.

“U-Um, did— did I say something wrong?”

After another moment of silence, Yamamoto shook his head.

“No, it’s more like, we’re surprised, I guess,” he shrugged, then raised a curious brow at Shuichi. “You must mean a lot to Boss if he’s willing to let you in on that.”

“...pardon?”

“Boss doesn’t just show his genuine side to anyone…” Hanazawa said, grabbing onto the collar of her winter coat. “If you’ve seen a glimpse of it, it means he places you on a special pedestal.”

“We’re saying that Boss sees you as a potential addition to the family,” Hashimoto elaborated.

“Hey, hey! Don’t go around putting words in my mouth,” Ouma interposed. “I never said anything about Saihara-chan joining us.”

“Oh?” Shimizu raised a brow in interest. “So, he’s not supposed to be a new recruit?”

“Nah. Well, I did try to invite Saihara-chan, but! He’s a party-pooper who prefers to not be enlisted into just about any “shady” organisation that he doesn’t know much about,” Ouma said. The way he phrased his words was obviously done in a way that was meant to be taken as a jab at Shuichi, and Shuichi was about to protest until Ouma added, “I didn’t say he’s here without a reason, though!”

The DICE members all looked at one another, appearing to be equally confounded for a moment before it seemed as if light bulbs flickered on inside their heads. Whatever it was, they seemed to have connected the dots in their minds in unison, and Shuichi couldn’t help but to be in awe at how in tune all of them are.

“I get it!” Ueshima flashed a huge grin. “I see, I get it now. So, _that’s_ why you brought him here.”

“And I’m guessin’ that’s why you planned _it_?” Iesada gave Ouma a questioning look. “Not like I’m against it or anythin’, though. Was just wonderin’ about it.”

“Hey, doesn’t that mean we’re long overdue with _it_?” Hashimoto asked. “I mean, the guest himself is already here.”

“Yes, but, to be fair, we weren’t exactly notified when we should pull _it_ off,” Shimizu turned to Ouma with a little less than amused look.

“Alright, alright. Pipe it down, guys. Jeez, I know I’m a leader, but there _are_ some things I just can’t afford to be too bothered about with the details, you know?” Ouma uncurled one finger. “One of those things is being punctual,” he said, then uncurled another finger. “And another is putting out an intricately orchestrated, successful surprise plan.”

Completely bemused by the exchanges between Ouma and the group, the only thing Shuichi was able to pick up was that there seemed to have been something else planned on this day. If Ouma’s words were anything to go by, that something was meant to be a surprise—most likely for someone. He turned to Ouma with a muddled look.

“Ouma-kun, did you guys have something else planned before this?” he asked. If so, it would mean that he might have potentially ruined the plan for them.

“We did, but,” Nagatsuka shot Ouma a questioning look, too, as if he was waiting for the latter to do the explaining for the rest of them.

“Hey, I didn’t say the plan was ruined, did I?” Ouma smirked at his subordinates. “You guys ought to give me some credit, you know? I’m your supreme leader for a reason!”

“What do you mean?” Hanazawa asked.

“It means, we do it now!” Ouma clapped his hands twice. “You heard me.”

The group looked at their leader with slight uncertainty, then exchanged looks between one another before finally nodding, some of them letting a sigh of exasperation slip past their lips in the process. Shuichi honestly had no idea what they were on about, and he was about to ask for an explanation until Ouma approached where his own subordinates stood and gathered. Positioning himself right in front of them, much like a leader who was leading his troop, he turned around to flash Shuichi a grin.

“On the count of three! One, two—!”

His subordinates all began moving. It all happened a little too fast. Each of them quickly positioned themselves into a particular (and ridiculous, Shuichi would add) pose, as if they were clowns on the streets performing posing stunts to entertain the public. That was probably what they were, actually—after all, this was a group of pranksters Shuichi was talking about. They took pride in their clowning as a tight-knitted group of pranksters.

In the next second, they yelled collectively.

“Welcome to the haven of games and life. Here we stand, we are DICE!”

Shuichi was stupefied. Ouma, donning an expression that could suggest no one else but him as the sole schemer of this, only widened his grin and flashed him a peace sign in response.

“Welcome to DICE, Saihara-chan! Now there's a bunch of us you can come back to!”

For the longest time, Shuichi had only come home to an empty apartment. Even during the times it wasn’t empty, the silence that deafened the house was enough to evoke an inevitable sense of loneliness. It was for this reason that he sought solace in books to begin with, but even then, there was only so much a book could do. They could temporarily take him away to another world, but he would eventually have to come back to reality and face the truth.

Now, here he was, standing in the hideout of DICE, welcomed warmly by the members.

This may not be his home, but, for the first time in his life, he felt as if he came back home to someone. A real home.

A family that wasn’t his, but greeted him when he stepped in all the same.

“We apologise, young man. Apparently, we were supposedly under the impression to have this welcome surprise scheduled for a particular date. It’s rather lackluster and unprepared since we weren’t notified who it was for and when it was supposed to be conducted beforehand,” Shimizu was the first to break from her pose, her hand resting against her cheek.

“Boss is just sneaky like that!” Ueshima giggled, breaking from her pose, too. “But Boss only had good intentions, I’m pretty sure.”

Shuichi was stunned. His eyes fell on Ouma.

“You—… you planned this for me?”

“Yup!” Ouma nodded, a toothy grin stretching from ear to ear on his face. “But hey, it’s a pretty good surprise, right? Now you have someone to come home to!”

“You say it like it’s a favour,” Nagatsuka sighed, smiling exasperatedly.

It sounded like a favour, but it wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

This was deliberately planned. Shuichi knew that much.

Shuichi didn't have to continue forcing himself to be accustomed to the loneliness that came with years of returning to an empty apartment.

“Saihara-san,” Ueshima gave him a warm smile and a slight nod of the head. “You're Boss' lover, so it means we have to treat you like one of us now.”

“Yeah, discriminatin’s not in our style,” Iesada agreed. “Well, a’ight, this isn’t exactly discriminatin’, but more like we’re fittin’ in an outsider.”

“Hey, a DICE membership is a once-in-a-blue-moon thing, you know? If you’re not gonna grab it now, you might not ever get the chance again,” Nagatsuka laughed. “Freemason-themed jokes aside, I’m with Ueshima-san. You being Boss’ lover just means it’s an extra addition to the family.”

_Family._

Funny how a single word could bring so many emotions to the surface.

“S-Saihara-san?” Ueshima blinked. There was surprise scribbled all over her face now as she stared at Shuichi. “What’s wrong? You’re—”

“You’re crying,” Hanazawa quietly remarked.

“Huh?”

Shuichi hadn’t even realised, didn’t even so much as _feel_ it until he brought a hand to his cheeks, only to find that they were wet. It was only then he realised that his vision was slightly blurrier than usual, clearly dampened by the tears. He quickly shied to the other side and wiped his eyes on his sleeves.

“S-Sorry, I didn’t— um, I didn’t mean to,” Shuichi said, feeling more than a little embarrassed because this was no more than a testimonial to how long he’d kept these emotions and feelings suppressed. “I think something got into my eye.”

“Hmmm, how boring,” Ouma commented, staring at Shuichi with a less than amused look. “Saihara-chan, you suck at lying, you know?”

“I wasn’t—”

“Right, right! No excuses!” Ouma silenced him with a raise of his hand as he approached him. He stood before his crying boyfriend, a hand slowly reaching up to thumb away the remaining tears still welling at the corner of his eyes. “Saihara-chan, I don’t like liars,” he simply said.

It was an invitation for him to let his emotions loose.

“That’s why, it’s alright to say it, you know?”

The lines on Ouma’s face noticeably softened as he waited. Shuichi pursed his lips tightly, signs of hesitation evident before they were gone the next second as he suppressed his fears and worries—this time for a different reason. Ouma simply smiled.

This was a smile he only showed to people he trusted. Soft, genuine, sincere, _loving._

“Welcome home, Saihara-chan,” Ouma said.

“Welcome home!” The members followed after their boss’ words, yelling in unison once more and flashing him some of the warmest smiles Shuichi didn’t even know could possibly exist.

For years, he forced himself to become accustomed to the loneliness, but now he might have a reason to not do so anymore. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this warmth—the warmth that came with coming back to the presence of someone, to “welcome home”’s.

Shuichi tried to blink the tears away, but to no avail. It was alright, though, because the warmth everyone was giving him was enough to stir something within him.

“I’m home.”

For the first time in a long time, he came home to a family.

* * *

Saihara Shuichi turned eighteen years old when he came home sober only to be surprised by a birthday party he didn’t know was planned for hi

It was on the night of a reunion gathering with their classmates from high school at one of the more well-known _izakaya_ establishments lining up the streets of Shinjuku. Momota was the one who planned it, on the basis that it would do everyone some good to see one another again and catch up—he wasn’t wrong, of course. Shuichi graduated high school with fairly fond memories of his classmates, so it was nice to see them all again.

The only odd thing was that Ouma requested to leave about half an hour into the gathering. He barely downed more than a few sips of champagne before getting up and announcing that he was leaving early. Confused as Shuichi was, he decided to leave Ouma be after realising his boyfriend seemed bent on not spilling anything more than a casual “I have something else to do” along with a cheeky grin.

“What’s with him?” Momota elbowed him, leaning in from his side to whisper.

Shuichi could only help a puzzled expression in response.

Ouma being busy wasn’t unheard of. Even after graduating from high school, he often busied himself with matters pertaining to his own organisation. Shuichi never really knew the extent of their business beyond Ouma’s usual remarks that went along the lines of, “It’s a secret; for all you know, I could be involved in something illegal and shady, and then I’d get a life sentence in prison if I ever get caught!”

(Which Shuichi doubted, of course. They were all but a group of harmless pranksters at heart, after all.)

So, Shuichi would often leave him be, because no matter how much Ouma insisted he might be involved in something illegal, he trusted him. He felt that, despite the supreme leader’s words, there was really nothing to worry about.

He had to admit, though—Ouma leaving early _was_ rather off.

What concerns and suspicions he had over Ouma leaving the reunion gathering early was soon drowned out by sips after sips of fruit-idled champagne. It took a while until Shuichi began to feel heaviness sleeping on his eyelashes, and he lazily glanced at the clock in the bar to find that two hours had passed. The lateness of the night was setting in on him, and it was only half an hour before the clock struck midnight.

“I think I’m going to go,” Shuichi placed his glass on the table after emptying its contents for the umpteenth time.

“Already, Shuichi?” Momota asked, blinking.

“It’s getting late, and I don’t want to worry my uncle,” he shot his best friend an apologetic nod. His uncle wasn’t going to be homee that night, but he still didn’t want to risk staying out too late and letting his uncle find out he’d been out for a reunion gathering. “It’s been fun, though. I’m really glad to see you guys again.”

After bidding his farewells and exchanging promises to meet up again in the future, Shuichi parted from the lively reunion gathering and began heading home. Thankfully, Momota chose an _izakaya_ that was only a fifteen-minute walk from where he lived, so it didn’t take long until he found himself in front of his apartment door, hands fishing into his coat’s pockets to look for his key.

The silence that ran throughout the apartment building meant that Shuichi was left with room for his thoughts. His concerns about Ouma from earlier began resurfacing, and he wondered yet again what prompted Ouma’s early leave from their high school reunion gathering. He could only hope that Ouma wasn’t up to something ridiculous or harmful to himself again.

He found his answer the moment he unlocked the door, though. The lights immediately flickered on, blinding Shuichi for a mere moment, and confettis began raining within his line of sight as a series of screams erupted from his living room.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

There was barely enough time for Shuichi to register what just happened. Shuichi jumped where he stood and came off with an ungodly yelp. The lights that suddenly illuminated the room along with the array of familiar voices suddenly brought life into his apartment. Shuichi blinked.

He saw that the table in the living room was lined up with snacks of all sorts, along with bottles of soft drinks. Most of them were clearly sourced from the nearest convenience store to his apartment. Lounging in front of the table and on the sofa, was none other than Ouma, a silly party hat strapped to his head. The DICE members were present, too, gathered around the table on the floor.

“Welcome home, Saihara-chan!” Ouma yelled, with much enthusiasm.

“...eh?”

“Is that really all you have to say, Saihara-chan?” Ouma said, his voice now taking on a slightly accusatory tone. “So mean! I planned this extensively in discreet, you know!”

“Yeah! You know, our boss spent a looooot of time contemplating on what kind of birthday party he wanted to throw for you,” Ueshima piped up, putting her hand up in the air to catch Shuichi’s attention.

“Well, technically, we suggested a formal party with, you know, proper food and booking at an establishment, but Boss decided to go with convenience store products and your apartment instead,” Nagatsuka shrugged, somewhat amused.

“You… planned this for me?” Shuichi blinked, turning to Ouma with a puzzled expression.

“Well, _duh_ . Does it look like anyone else here planned it?” Ouma said. Right after he said that, he found himself at the receiving end of numerous less-than-amused stares from his subordinates, so he quickly added, “Of course, I meant to mention they _helped!_ ”

“You ought to not take all the credit for yourself sometimes, Boss,” Shimizu sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose for a moment, then turned to Shuichi. “Well, our boss aside, you should hurry up and join us, Saihara-san. It’s already pretty late, so we should get this little party engineering before midnight strikes.”

Truth to be told, Shuichi had no idea what he was supposed to do. Today was indeed his birthday, but it’d been more than 10 years since he last celebrated it properly. It’d been so long that, over time, it became nothing more than just another day for him, so he wasn’t expecting a birthday party to be thrown for him. In fact, he’d never had a birthday party before—this was really the first that he could count, so he was at a loss as to how to react.

“I— um,” he began, eyes darting across the room as if he was trying to find something else to look at. Anything but the bunch gathered before him in the living room right now because he didn’t know how to properly express his gratitude. “I… you guys did all this… for me?”

“Isn’t it obvious from the looks of it?” Hashimoto raised a brow questioningly. “Hell _yeah,_ this party is for you!”

“Well, like I said, Boss here—” Nagatsuka’s eyes gestured towards Ouma, “—was the one who came up with the idea, and we simply helped.”

“We’re sorry it’s not much, really,” Shimizu huffed softly, lips curling up in a small, apologetic smile. “Boss was persistent on the party being an informal and simple one, despite our suggestions for a formal one at a restaurant or bar…”

“Hey, hey, _hey_. My word is final, alright? I know what’s best for Saihara-chan!” Ouma retorted. “I’m just doing my job as the boyfriend.”

“Oh, yeah, didn’t Boss say that Saihara-san doesn’t do very well with huge gatherings in public spaces? That’s why he went for an informal party instead,” Ueshima mused.

Shuichi’s voice was lost somewhere in his throat.

The fact that Ouma planned this, along with the help of the DICE members, and with only Shuichi’s best interests in mind, to throw him a surprise party on his birthday, was somehow so _touching_ _._ He didn’t expect this. He really didn’t. When was the last time he had something like this done for him?

He couldn’t even remember the last time he came back to his own home to such a lively atmosphere. He couldn’t remember the last time he came back to his own home to more than a hello or two from someone that isn’t his own uncle when he wasn’t working night shifts. To be able to come back to his own apartment to the presence of a group of people, all of whom were like _family_ to Ouma—

“Alright, guys! Remember what we planned,” Ouma clapped his hands twice, catching the attention of his subordinates, all of whom collectively turned to him and nodded, before diverting their attention back on Shuichi.

...—made it feel like home again.

“Welcome home!”

The DICE members yelled in unison, setting off a few more packs of confetti before breaking into laughters and cheers after their little stunt. The smiles on their face were unbearably warm and familiar, and it almost made Shuichi feel as if he’d known them his entire life.

Somewhere, at the back of his head, he wondered if this was what it felt—to come home to a home that's alive, to come home to someone welcoming him back.

“Alright, pipe it down, guys. It’s my turn to hog the spotlight now!” Ouma raised a hand to silence his subordinates before hopping off the sofa. “Sheesh, talk about not following the script.”

Shuichi could hear little, quiet giggles erupt from somewhere behind Ouma as the the latter approached him. Ouma flashed his usual toothy grin, hands concealed behind his back, and when Shuichi’s eyes left him for but a second to look beyond his boyfriend’s shoulders, Ouma’s hands were quick to move, popping the last pack of confetti he’d been holding onto since earlier into his boyfriend’s face.

“Happy Birthday, Saihara-chan!” he congratulated, his voice practically heavy with cheekiness. “Do you like what I’ve planned for you?”

“...not that last part where you popped a confetti in my face,” Shuichi remarked bluntly, brushing off some of the contents of the confetti that’d landed in his hair.

“It’s my ultimate present for you!” Ouma beamed.

Shuichi lazily raised a brow at Ouma before letting a soft giggle slip past his lips. Ouma may have said that, but Shuichi knew better—that Ouma was lying about the confetti being the ultimate present, because the ultimate present couldn’t have been anything but this surprise party that he threw for him with the help of his own subordinates. The ultimate present for Shuichi, was Ouma's relentless efforts in trying his best to make sure Shuichi didn't have to force himself to be accustomed to the loneliness and come home to an empty apartment any longer.

The thought of it was enough to almost drive his emotions into a corner.

“Yeah, I get it. That’s your ultimate present,” Shuichi sighed softly in defeat, an endeared smile sliding across his face as his eyes softened.

The lines on Ouma’s face slacked. His smile now more genuine, his eyes softened similarly as he looked up at Shuichi.

“Happy Birthday, Saihara-chan. Thanks for being born.”

It took every ounce of strength in Shuichi to hold back the tears, though he knew they’d spill sooner or later anyway.

“Thank you, Ouma-kun.”

* * *

Saihara Shuichi was twenty years old in spring when Ouma proposed that they rent an apartment together for college.

“We’re enrolling into the same college, aren’t we?” Ouma shrugged, lips curled up in a wide line as he slumped back against the couch in Shuichi’s living room. “And we’re lovers! Living together would make perfect sense!”

“I, uh,” Shuichi blinked, completely caught off-guard by the suggestion, “I wouldn’t mind, but I think an apartment for just the two of us might be too much.”

“It’s perfect for us!”

“No, that’s— that’s besides the point, Ouma-kun,” Shuichi said, a slight hint of exasperation in his voice already. Ouma had always been very hasty when it came to making decisions like this, so he knew better than to stop his boyfriend before he actually went ahead with it without giving much thought to it. “An apartment in Tokyo is expensive, you know that. Unless we find a couple others to join us, it’s going to be just the two of us for one.”

“Exactly, it’s going to be just the two of us.”

Ouma suddenly sprung up from the couch, cheekily grinning at Shuichi.

“That’s the point, Saihara-chan. Let’s live together.”

Shuichi is stunned into silence. The smile on Ouma’s face quickly dissolved the next second, his expression immediately twisted one of sadness, crocodile tears already piling up at the corners of his eyes.

“Don’t tell me… you _didn’t_ get it?” The tears were starting to overflow by now. He sniffled. “Y-You’re so mean, Saihara-chan! My poor, _poor_ maiden heart!”

While Ouma began exploding into childish screams and wails, Shuichi’s brain was still busy trying to process what he just dropped on him.

Live? _Together?_

“God, Saihara-chan, when are you ever going to stop being so dense?” Ouma squinted at him, the tears he’d been spilling so relently earlier all but evaporated within a matter of seconds. Then, the lines around his face slacked as his expression noticeably softened. “I want to live together with you.”

Time suddenly slowed down for Shuichi all of a sudden, and it felt like the world was derived of everyone except for the two of them. There was a sense of heaviness to this moment that Shuichi couldn’t quite prescribe well into words, but it ultimately amounted to one thing: It was unexpected, surprising and so—

Somehow _so_ endearing.

“...yeah,” Shuichi answered, an overwhelming warmth soon enveloping his chest as his eyes widened and his hands gripped tightly the edge of the couch. He leaned forward, looking to be more than just taken aback. A closer look would reveal his eyes to be sparkling, much like a starry-eyed child.  “I’d— I’d love to live with you, Ouma-kun.”

As if he’d weaved his way to gain the upperhand in this situation, Ouma’s lips stretched slightly into a small, victorious smile. “It’s decided, then! We’ll live together. We’ll go to college together. We’ll graduate together. What do you say?”

Ouma extended a hand outwards to Shuichi. It was an invitation, and there would be no takebacks, but Shuichi was fine with it. Without a single hesitation, Shuichi reached out. As usual, trickery ran rampant in Ouma’s words and antics, but there was nothing he could do to deny the genuineness of the warmth in his touch. Shuichi held his hand tight.

That was his answer to Ouma’s proposal.

* * *

Saihara Shuichi was twenty-three years old and down with a fever in bed in the midst of autumn when Ouma took his hand into his and casually slipped a ring onto his wedding finger.

It wasn’t a real, genuine ring. It was one you could get from the nearest makeup or drug store, one that youngsters loved wearing as a fashion statement around Tokyo nowadays, but Shuichi was still startled by the sudden gesture. He looked to Ouma through fever-addled eyes for an explanation.

“I probably picked the worst timing for this, but, well, whatever,” Ouma shrugged, and though the smile on his face was the usual mischievous one, Shuichi was able to detect in the lines of his face what appeared to be a trace of… nervousness?

Shuichi couldn’t help the surprise and confusion.

“You’re gaping like a dumb goldfish now, Saihara-chan. What? Are you seriously not getting the hint?” Ouma raised a brow, then the crocodile tears began welling up in his eyes faster than Shuichi could think _oh, no_ to himself. “You’re so mean! How could you do this to my poor maiden heart?! I spent a long time preparing this, you know!?”

After sniffling and letting the crocodile tears flow for good whole minute, Ouma’s lips curled up in a Cheshire-like grin. “That was a lie, of course!”

The last part sounded like one of his usual lies, but it didn’t _feel_ like a lie.

It was also a stunt Ouma would resort to pulling whenever Shuichi didn't get the connotation of what he said, only this time it almost felt as if he pulled it as a sort of cover-up for how he might really be feeling. Was he feeling nervous, after all?

“Hey, I told you I’ve decided I’m never letting you go no matter what, right?” Ouma said, and when Shuichi could only helplessly stare at him, face thoroughly flushed from the fever, he smiled—this time, no more sincere than the next words he said.

“I wasn’t lying. Let’s become a family, Shuichi.”

It took a moment or two to register what he said, and Shuichi could barely find where his voice began and where it ended. In the midst of his fever, Shuichi’s body moved on reflex, hands extended and reaching out to wrap them around Ouma’s neck. Tears were threatening to gather at the corner of his eyes when he buried his face into his shoulders, but he was fine with it, and Ouma was fine with it, too.

“That should be my line,” Shuichi said, voice muffled against Ouma’s shirt. “I— _I’m_ the one who’s not letting go of you, ever.” His words came out in shaky breaths instead. He felt Ouma run a hand through his hair.

“Yeah,” Ouma’s voice was soft, _genuine_. “I know.”

The vague sound of autumn leaves rustling outside the windows could be heard from a distance, as if they were bells that celebrated the solidifying of a vow. When Shuichi raised his head, snifling and rubbing the tears on his sleeves, he felt Ouma’s hands gently cup his cheeks and then his lips against his own.

Saihara Shuichi was twenty-three years old when he was in love and home would no longer be a stranger to him.


End file.
